In The Dark, The Rads Glow
by TheAlphaTitan
Summary: In 2292, the mysterious D6 was opened in the Moscow Metro, and now a new threat has come with the goal of killing everyone. Their only chance? For the factions of the Metro to unite against this new enemy. The one thing that may be the difference between life and death? One small group comprised of strangers to the Metro. Prepare yourself, because war, war never changes.


Prologue – "A New Enemy Comes To The Metro…"

Rytum frowned as he ducked behind a low wall, his Kalashnikov rifle clenched tightly to his chest and his finger going to the trigger. Ahead, in the darkness of the Metro, he could hear…something. It sounded bigger than a Nosalis, but no Librarian came down from the surface and Demons were not creatures for the Metro lines – the winged bitches found the tunnels to cramp. Could it be a new breed of mutant? Or an overgrown Nosalis? Anything was possible, and the opening of D6 by his fellow Rangers had shown that there existed mutants not yet seen before.

"Shhh, you idiots, I hear something ahead. Something big." He sharply whispered, his head snapping back at his two companions, Rangers like himself. The two ceased talking, formerly having been in a conversation about some 'whore at Hanza that cost twenty bullets,' and came down to rest against cover as well.

The trio waited, silently in the dark, as the sounds ahead became louder and closer.

"Maybe it's just a Nosalis? Or a Dark One?" One of his companions asked, the man more of a young boy, by the name of Nikolai, as he clasped his shotgun tightly.

"Nonsense, no Nosalis is as big at that thing sounds; and the Dark Ones were wiped out months ago after our brothers secured D6 and bombed them all to Hell." His other companion, an older man by the name of Felix, argued with a dismissive shake of his head.

"If it's hostile, you kill it." Rytum said, reciting the Ranger's motto with finality. It didn't matter what the thing was, if it was hostile, it would die. His words effectively ending the conversation; it didn't matter what it was, it would die.

The three popped up above cover and aimed their weapons forward, waiting for the creature expected to come into sight.

And waited…

And waited…

"Where is it?" Nikolai whispered, the sounds had sounded like they were so close, but now they just continued to become louder and louder, echoing on the walls.

"…Behind you." A deep, hoarse voice growled from behind the three, its hot breath damp against the backs of their necks.

Rytum began to turn, his finger already beginning to squeeze the trigger, only to be backhanded in the side to the right, the force feeling as though a trolley had run into him at full speed. He flew to the right, slamming against a wall as the other two spun and opened fire.

He brought a hand up and rubbed his head as an explosion of dots clouded his vision, the force of his impact against the wall likely giving him a concussion and the hit to his side cracking or breaking atleast one rib, his inhales causing pain backed that theory. After a brief second, his eyes turned up to look at the scene before him, and he silently gasped.

Felix floated in the air, blood from his stomach dripped down from a wound onto a…blade? The form of the blood on the object, invisible from view if not for the blood running down its length, appeared to be an impossibly large sword. The elder man coughed once, a splattering of blood coming from his mouth and impacting against a large form infront of him, also hidden from sight, yet…from where the blood hit the being was immense, several heads taller than an ordinary man.

The man was flung through the air with the flick of the sword-wielder's wrist, the sound of the blade leaving the muscle and skin causing a nauseating sound that sent a shiver of horror down his spine.

Nikolai shot into the being's stomach twice with his shotgun, a deathblow for many of the mutants known to the Metro-Dwellers, and yet, as the shroud of invisibility that had kept the monstrosity from view failed from the impacts, the monster still stood.

Rytum, at that moment, wished that he had gone without seeing his killer.

Large and a dark blue that almost made the being blend in with the darkness of the Metro, the being towered over even the tallest man, the blood that had been spit had only impacted its chest, and was more muscled that even the strongest Librarian. And yet…it looked human, maybe warped and distorted but still human at the core. It was big, it was strong, it was stealthy, and it was smart… The Metro would be doomed against these things.

Nikolai, in surprise at the being's form, was motionless before the monstrosity backhanded him upside the head and flew through the air, his head turned and tilted at an odd angle as he landed in a pile beside him.

Rytum, in an act completely driven by survival instinct…started to play dead against the wall, his head falling to the side and his eyes losing focus as they aimed towards the ground; his breathing slowed to the point where his chest hardly moved and in his mind he began screaming wishes of returning to his friends and family so that he might be able to warn the other Rangers. He just prayed that the layers of his clothing, and the facewrap about his face, would serve to hide his breathing.

"The way is clear, my brothers." The large being called out after a few moments, Rytum only then realized that the loud sounds from before had all but vanished. Loud stomps of heavy feet against the concrete ground sounded out, nowhere near as loud as the noises earlier, and from the darkness came numerous other creatures akin to the first monstrosity.

Others tinted blue, more of an orange-ish yellow and of different sizes began to make their way. The blue ones were like ghosts, their steps significantly quieter than their yellow brethren and their form occasionally switching from visible to not with the belch of ozone. One of the yellow ones stood out from the rest, one shorter in stature than the giant who had dispatched his two friends but still at over eight feet tall, and yet seemed to hold more authority.

"Well done, Corporal, our first bloodshed in this God-forsaken country has been achieved. We will take over this Metro line, and wipe out the last of the Russian survivors, one station at a time, and use it to build the Master's utopia. Dispose of the corpses, throw them outside and let the beasts take care of the rest." The shorter mutant commanded, his tone switching from congratulatory to authoritative quickly.

"Yes, sir, Major." The blue-ish monstrosity snapped to a quick salute before reaching over to grasp the still form of Felix, then began stomping its way over to Nikolai and himself.

As he was picked up, his breathing stopped in his throat, his muscles all went slack and he just waited for the end. Surely his ploy wouldn't hold for long, not with this level of closeness.

He was carried along the Metro line, the longer than normal steps of the large mutant, Corporal, made its way to the closest exit to the surface, a normally ten minute walk, take all but a single minute. Along the way, multiple other mutants were passed and the only thought that passed Rytum's mind was War.

War was being prepared, but only by one side. Two factions fought for control of the Metro, the Reich and the Communists, and the Rangers stood as a constant armed presence. The first two relied on numbers, the final on skill. But if the three could be taken unawares? They would perish easily and swiftly.

Someone needed to atleast warn the Rangers, then maybe a meeting could be called and the three factions could unite for this new threat.

Unfortunately that meant one thing…

He'd have to escape…from a new breed of mutant to the Metro, one that was much faster and stronger than any normal human, a human intelligence, and the ability to turn invisible.

He waited, waited until they finally made their way through to the surface and then was finally grateful for something – that his face wrap atleast aided in blocking out the debris in the air and that he had taken some Rad-X due to his group nearing an opening to the surface. Otherwise, his breathing would have become much more difficult and he'd have given away his charade. He forced his breathing to be slow, and just barely deep enough to allow him to not fall unconscious from lack of oxygen in the harsh environment in mere moments.

It wasn't long though, maybe only a minute or two longer than it would have taken otherwise, even with the facewrap and Rad-X, until his vision began to darken and his breathing deepened as his body struggled for clean air.

'Dammit, suka! Not already!' He screamed in his thoughts, his body beginning to move more noticeably in the creature's grasp as it strained and fought for life, his own actions out of his control. He'd been hoping to last until the creature left after disposing of his 'corpse' at its leader's command.

"Ah! We've got an opossum in our midst! Playing dead, eh?" The brutish mutant inquired loudly, tossing Rytum and the corpses of his friends several feet infront of himself; his body bounced along the ground several feet before coming to a stop.

His hands instantly went to his gasmask, hidden under his facewrap, and secured it, his mind and body in agreement that there was no longer a need to continue the ruse after it had been discovered. He was beaten already, he knew death approached in the form of the creature that he'd have no hopes to defeat in unarmed combat. His weapons lost to the clutches of the other creatures; though, even if he'd had them, the being had managed to take two shotgun blasts to the stomach and remain nearly unscathed – he wouldn't have won anyway at such a close distance.

The beast lumbered forward, drawing the large blade from its back. The thing was monstrous, even in the paws of the giant humanoid. Blemishes dotted the, seemingly, improvised blade, which appeared to be a blade from an Old World helicopter sharpened and shaped to form a sword to match a monster. Yet…it seemed oddly clean, the blemishes from battles long-since fought and a testament to the skill of the wielder, or wielders, from the time it was shaped. Otherwise, it seemed meticulously taken care of. Dirt and blood seemed absent from the weapon, atleast as much as possible in this day and age where dirt covered most everything, and baring the blood of Felix.

'Odd, the things you notice as you are about to die.' Rytum thought, his eyes on the predatory form of the mutant, which stalked towards him with an almost leisurely pace. It KNEW that he knew it would kill him, and it was making the most of it.

He would not allow it to see his fear though, he may die but he'd keep that victory. He'd be the one who looked his death in the eye and perished with his head held high. Slowly, with pain-filled movements, Rytum stood up, a hand on his side, atleast two ribs likely broken, and stared at the hulking blue form that stood out much more in the light of the surface.

As the beast closed in and raised its blade over its head, ready to strike his form down as he stood defiantly, his thoughts turned from his pending death to his friends and family in the Metro. Soon they would be reunited with him, the armed forces of the Metro would not be able to hold back the giants without uniting together – and unless the Rangers mediated the Nazis and the Reds, that unification would not happen. And without him telling Rangers, they wouldn't know to mediate for the two armies until it was too late.

Anger and rage filled him; those he cared about would die meaningless deaths at the hands of these new mutants, and he could stop it. He could stop it all, he just had to live.

Why should they die due to his inability to even fight back against this foe?

The creature started to swing its blade down, and Rytum's eyes blazed with hatred and loathing as he stood strong like the heroes he'd been told stories about as a small child, the kind of heroes who never fell to anyone and who always saved those they cared about.

And then…his mind stopped thinking.

The monstrosity paused mid-swing, the blade an inch from Rytum's shoulder yet kept from impacting by a sudden tensing of the creature's muscles.

A second passed, then two, and then a loud crack pierced his ears, and his eyes finally moved to rest on the creature's chest instead of its face.

A large, gaping hole several inches in diameter had seemingly appeared from nowhere at the location a human's heart would normally be.

A gust of wind blew and the creature fell forward, collapsing on top of the smaller human in a lifeless heap.

Rytum struggled beneath the mass of muscle, the weight having crushed his gasmask and causing him to once more begin to lose consciousness as he inhaled stale, tainted air. As his vision dimmed, his thoughts going clouded from lack of suitable oxygen, the mass of flesh was removed and he swore he heard…something.

"Boss…He appears to still be alive, though just barely. It seems as though he is unable to breath correctly without a gasmask to filter the dust particles in the air." A rough, gravelly voice said, the shadowy form of the owner stood above him; the voice sounded similar to a man he'd heard in his youth, the owner a man that frequented the surface and whose voice was made gravelly from over-exposure to the dirt and dust in the air.

A crackling filled the air before a voice, smoother than the first, spoke:

"Replace his mask with one of the other two's, grab the Nightkin's sword, and take shelter in the building on your six with Titus and V; I'm on the way with the others, estimated time of arrival is fifteen minutes baring any serious encounters."

"Fifteen minutes for a simple mile? You're slipping, Walker." A voice reminiscent of the mutants spoke, slow and measured yet filled with power.

"Not all of us have strides that equal three of a normal human's, easily." A heavily filtered female voice said from nearby.

"We'll be waiting." The first voice spoke once more, and then the crackling ceased. "Move the Nightkin and the corpses, Titus; V, grab the sword. I'll get the human. Hurry up, fresh blood is like Psycho for Raiders when it comes to the feral mutants around here; we'll get swarmed by the things if we don't distance ourselves from the bait." There was a pause. "Heh, the smoothskin is still conscious; curiosity does wonders, doesn't it? …Go ahead and sleep, we'll keep you safe."

And with that, Rytum lost consciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Welp, hello my dear readers and welcome to 'In the Dark, The Rads Glow'.**

**This is my newest fic, an attempt at a Fallout/ Metro crossover, and for those that read the date in description and the FO character involved, those are right.**

**To make this work, I'm shifting the time period of the date for Metro to a few years after Fallout New Vegas, roughly nine actually, and bringing our favorite Wanderer and associates across the pond and plopping them down into Moscow and the Metro. OCs and Canon characters will be around aplenty, from both the series, and events...won't exactly be the same as they were in Last Light. New mutants will rampage, bullets will be shot, and the big, bad LW will mess some mutants, and maybe some people, up with his allies at his back.**

**This is actually going to be part of a series I have planned involving Fallout, or more accurately what happens after my FO:NV fic, and the ones I have planned for after.**

**Be prepared, the LW is akin to the biggest badass in the world; this story will essentially have the Fallout 3 LW maxed out on skills after many troubles and experiences from his past, if his skill point cap capped out at five hundred instead of 100 and if you were to incoporate Skyrim's leveling system into Fallout. He'll still have his share of troubles and weaknesses, but he's a badass. Fortunately, for those that don't like over-powered LW, he will not be the character that this fic focuses on, that will be another, but he will have some time in the spotlight.**

**This fic is here as a secondary one to my 'Our Forgotten Heroes' one, to serve as a method to remove the dreaded writer's block whenever I get it, or to prevent it from forming by working on multiple fics at once and thus not get bored with only one. No worries to those readers, that fic will not be forgotten.**

**For those that don't like my LW when more of him is seen, too bad. This is my fic, and I'm going to do with him as I please. Some people write the LW having sex, in extreme detail, and I write mine as a badass. If you want a more flawed, weak, and helpless one, wait for my FO3 fic which will have fresh-faced Wanderer as he is slowly built up over his experiences. Watch him as he grows up from a boy, falls in love, watches his father die, and topples huge organizations and factions. That all may, or may not, occur in that order. Bleh.**

**Unlike for Our Forgotten Heroes, I am thinking of starting a forum on here where I will answer reviews for this fic in groups so enormous ANs are not made like this one. Reviews will be answered that have been added since the release of the previous chapter to prevent back-and-forths. As to the title of the forum, it will be given next chapter in that one's Author's Note.**


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